Senden
by HinodeoftheCovenant
Summary: Renji wonders if Ichigo's sword compensates for anatomical deficiencies elsewhere, and poor Byakuya gets caught up in it all.


**SENDEN**

**Rated T for language, implied sexual situations, general stupidity, and Byakuya torture.**

**Characters: Byakuya, Renji, Ichigo. **

**Pairings: Implied IchiRen. (Yes, you read that right.)**

Looking back, Byakuya surmised that it might have been the sharp decline in the influx of work to attend to that had caused his fukutaichou's already questionable sense to decay even further. Granted, Abarai had done his fair share of foolish things; however, _this,_ this truly topped them all.

It had all began on a clear, unassuming spring day. Due to a grievous error on the part of one Renji-loving imbecile, the division had experienced a reprieve from the obscene amount of paperwork that was usually assigned. After adding his signature to the final piece of paper work on his desk, and signing a large **NO** with a flourish to a note from Kyouraku-Taichou inviting him to an orgy of alcohol and other questionable substances, one Kuchiki Byauya sighed quietly. He was silently very thankful for the lack of work, as it was helping him stave off what the humans called 'Carpal Tunnel', a little while longer. All in all, a very peaceful, quiet day. Wait. That wasn't right. His fukutaichou was usually letting everything on his mind out through the broken dam that was his mouth. Surprisingly, he was lounging in a chair off to the side, staring blankly in front of him. Byakuya would never have thought that he was actually applying his thought-processes to something.

In retrospect, he should have kept quiet. He should have dismissed him for the remainder of the day. Unfortunately, he didn't. He allowed the fool to stay in his office. He also should have listened to the small, nagging voice in the back of his mind that had said that "Boredom makes simple people due incredibly stupid things". However, due to the fact that his mind was recovering from the disturbing amount of work that had plagued him up until the error today, he didn't think much of it when Renji sat up and opened his mouth to speak.

"Ne, Taichou?"

Byakuya sighed. When Renji spoke, what he said was both profoundly deep and inspirational, or incredibly stupid. Most often, it was the latter. Without thinking, he let out the automatic response.

"What is it, Abarai-san?" This was going to bite him in the rear later, he was sure of it.

"Do ya think it's true what they say about people who wield large zanpakutous?"

He _really_ did not like where this conversation was going. He cursed whatever gods were laughing at him before answering.

"What about them, Abarai-san?"

"That they, you know…are compensating for a small….you know…?"

Of all the questions he had been asked in his four-hundred –odd years, this one was the most ridiculous.

'Show no emotion. Do not react.' He chided himself. 'He'll keep talking.' He braced himself mentally before, once again, _answering the damn question._

"..Why the sudden interest, Abarai-san?" He deadpanned. He hoped that if he remained as monotonous and uninterested as usual, the fool would get the idea and curb his tongue. Big mistake.

Renji was silent for a moment.

"Well….that is…I mean….have you _seen_ Ichigo's zanpakutou? It's almost as big as he is! It's huge! Hitsugaya-Taichou feels even more vertically-challenged than usual whenever he's around here swinging that thing."

Byakuya thought he felt an aneurism coming on. Please. _Please_ let it be an aneurism.

"Abarai-san, if you are truly that curious, why do you not go and ask him yourself."

The red-haired man shrugged, before saying,

"What, Taichou? Do you want me to run over to the 11th division right now, and pull his pants down in front of everyone while he's fighting Kenpachi?"

"If you wish to do so, then I will make no moves to stop you." In his head however, he was pleading,

'Yes. Yes. Please. Leave, so that my mind can rest from the damage your idiocy has caused.'

Once again, it seemed as if the gods enjoyed toying sadistically with him. He felt a huge surge of reiatsu belonging to the subject of Renji's mindless drivel, and, seconds later, one Kurosaki Ichigo was standing in the doorway; a smirk on his face, and that _accursed_ sword slung across his back. He raised a hand in greeting.

"Yo. Renji, Byakuya."

In spite of the feeling of impending doom pressing against the 6th division captain from all sides, he nodded slightly in greeting, ignoring the fact that the brat still insisted on referring to him by his first name.

"Hey…uuhh…Ichigo..?"

No….for the love of his late wife Hisana, no…..he wouldn't, right? The Kurosaki boy was prone to fits of rage that caused insurmountable amounts of property damage. If the fool opened his mouth, there would be no 6th Division for him to return to next morning. The only thing that kept him from vaulting over his desk and bludgeoning his fukutaichou into sweet, _silent_ unconsciousness was his pride, and his distaste at the thought of this incident being found out.

"What, Renji?"

"Your sword, well, it's pretty…big, right?"

"Yeah. What's your point?"

"Well, are you….ya know…compensating for something with it?"

Ichigo was silent. He wasn't sure what Renji was getting at.

"What do you mean by compensating, Renji?"

Though it was fruitless, Byakuya pleaded once more to whatever gods were still with him. Not that it did much, unfortunately.

"When a man has a tiny…..you know….he surrounds himself with large, ego-boosting objects to make him feel less….inadequate…"

"Wh-what?"

Ichigo stood silently, realization crashing into him. He sputtered indignantly, his face beginning to turn red. From either embarrassment or anger, no one could tell. He took a deep, shaky breath before saying,

"Renji. Come here." He seemed to be calm. Great. A passive-aggressive Ichigo was just as scary as an insanely enraged Ichigo.

"Huh?"

"Renji. Come. Here". He ground out through clenched teeth."

The red-head audibly gulped, and inched cautiously towards the other. He yelped as Ichigo grabbed him by the collar of his shihakusho, and dragging him out of the office. Byakuya, still seated at his desk, let out a sigh; the only indication that he had been troubled in anyway by the ordeal. Maybe he would take Shunsui up on his offer after all.

The Next Morning

Byakuya gazed at the clock. His fukutaichou was late. Three hours late to be exact. However, just as he was about to send a hell butterfly to the man's residence, said man stumbled through the door. Dimly, he realized the fool was wearing the same uniform as yesterday. But, it was torn horribly in various places, barely covering the upper portions of his body. If the state of his uniform was horrible, 

Renji was worse. He was incredibly frazzled and out of breath. He had angry red marks along his chest, his neck was littered with bruises, and he walked with a pronounced limp. Remembering the incident yesterday, his captain smirked, and asked,

"Well Renji, did you find the answer to what you've been wondering about?"  
"H-hai, Taichou."

He received a pointed look, which clearly said 'continue'.

"I-it's not compensation, sir. It's advertisement."

Later on, Kuchiki Byakuya would vehemently deny spitting his tea across his paperwork.


End file.
